


Fall of Aobajousai

by LordMarr



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Demons, Elves, F/M, Gen, M/M, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-12 21:35:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9091648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordMarr/pseuds/LordMarr
Summary: Two hundred years ago, the humans of Aobajousai overthrew the Elves that had enslaved them, forming their own kingdoms and cities. In that time, they've warred with each other, grown, prospered, and suffered. Now, they will face a threat unlike anything ever seen by the world before.





	

' _Honestly? How does no one ever get lost in this place?_ ' Suguru thought to himself as he made his way to the chamber in which his brethren met.  
  
To those not of his kind, everything held a certain sense of dread to it. The halls were forged from an obsidian metal, skulls and bones adorning them with macabre decorations of similar natures hanging from rust-coated chandeliers with violet-burning candles. It was a dreary, dreadful place. Just the way his race liked it. Even the windows on each side of the corridor revealed the basalt landscape of the barren world set adrift in the rift between dimensions. Volcanic emissions tore away at the floating continent, the heat had long-dried up the rivers, which now were replaced by a putrid, sludge-like liquid that carried with it disease, carrion, and perhaps the occasional soul of the damned. The thought made him giggle aloud, as even the land itself was black and ashen, a stern reminder of their capability--what they had reduced their world to, which was once overflowing with life.  
  
Carefully, he reminded himself, that demons do -NOT- giggle.  
  
The demon's hooves clacked upon the stone floors like the heels of tap dancing shoes, eventually coming to a halt at a gateway. A singular skull, horned with eyes that glowed verdant fire, was at the center of a door with an ouroboros around it. Even the snakes themselves had horns as they devoured another. Outstretching a clawed hand, he sank a finger each into the skull's eyes, taking in it's appearance once more. A chuckle came from his lips, noticing that it's lower jaw was still just as far down as before, dried expressions preserving the pain of the owner. It wasn't long before the door responded to his prodding, the snakes circling with mechanized creaking and revolving in a pattern as their inscribed eyes began to glow, magic bleeding from the demon's fingertips to work the gate, which in turn glowed a transparent jade before becoming entirely incorporeal. The demon proceeded through accordingly, watching it seal behind him.  
  
As he entered the chamber, he gazed upon two other members of his race, each occupying a corner of the room. There were seven, alcove-like indentations along the walls, each indicating the location of one of their thrones. The leaders of this world--the few that remained of it's original species. In their own tongue, they were the 'Thal'kituun', or 'Nathrezim', a race of demonic creatures that fed upon magic, the draining willpower of others, and their souls. To humans, simply put as 'deceivers'.  
  
"Back so soon, Lord Suguru? Another weakling summoner?" Taunted a stern voice as the slightly shorter of the demons approached his own throne. Lord Akinori, he recognized it well.  
  
The second and significantly taller of their race began to bellowed out laughter, clawed grip at his exposed waist. Like the two of them, the demonic Satori bore a twin, ragged wingspan, long and gnarled horns, the legs of what humans would call a 'goat', and finally the ever-important eyes that glowed with the flame of their chosen 'attribute'. Unlike the two shorter lords, Satori's armor was as crimson as his hair, whereas Suguru bore a sickly mix of yellow and nauseating greens, Akinori respectively bearing a ghastly orange and yellow.  
  
By the time he'd felt ready to respond, he'd made his way to his own throne, seating himself. "Satori, Akinori. Mockery aside, my dear brothers, I've spied us a promising field--we'd do best to make like serpents and weave ourselves into the tall grass," Suguru cackled, laughter filling the chamber.  
  
"Of course, of course, but -what- exactly is this plan of yours?" Insisted Akinori, who was considered by Suguru the shadiest of the deceivers present. Akinori's clawed fingertips tapped upon the embedded skull at the armrest of his own through. These things weren't build without consideration for the deceivers, as the back supports left room for their wings to fold neatly behind them.  
  
With a wave of the hand, a multi-directional screen of shimmering energies began to form. Their magic didn't require much effort in their home. A vast city with buildings with the trimmed schemes of crimson and black came into the council's view, before zooming to a location in a sped-up 'zip', and closing in upon the window of a singular tower. In the view of the window happened to be a male with a severe case of bedhead, toiling away at a desk littered with musky tomes and forgotten scrolls on magic usually restricted to the city's inhabitants.  
  
"Akinori, Satori, I introduce to thee," Suguru proudly proclaimed, a clawed hand over his heart as his chest swelled arrogantly. His voice was like rotten honey, a flair of drama thrown in for good taste. "Our ticket into this world. An archmage of the human city, 'Nekoma', has recently 'stumbled'," at that, he air-quoted with his claws, "upon delightfully 'forbidden'," more air-claws. "magic. I've been communicating with him for sometime now, and will soon be summoned into his world."  
  
Low murmurs came from the two seated deceivers, before one finally took to speaking.  
  
"And what does this do for us?" It was Akinori again, eyes drenched in their ominous amber.  
  
"I'd expect something so...angry and -bitter- from 'Lord' Kentarou, maybe, but you? Quit being so self-centered," Suguru chuckled, clearly toying with the fellow demon as it was in their nature to be self-centered. Remarking on the young Kentarou was sure to get a response, he could at least dream.  
  
Akinori didn't respond, instead continuing the steady thrum of jeweled claws upon bone.  
  
"Ah, ah! Y'know, since we can only die on our own terms, like -here-," boasted Tendou as if in exposition. "I think it's safe to say you've, 'stabbed Akinori in his real heart', with that one."  
  
Both of the demons began to laugh in unison, the slit-like eyes of their fellow brother showing a decent amount of ire in the amber that cracked through. He almost looked as if he were saying, ' _Are you done yet?_ ', head now resting tilted against the palm opposite to the tapping hand, elbow at the other armrest.  
  
After their laughter finally died, Suguru stood from his throne, swiping his hand through the still-fixed screen and forcing it to dissipate into raw energy, "Once he's summoned me, I'll get us a foothold, whether they even know they serve us or not--they'll serve," the deceivers felt very little desire to reveal the full extent of their plans, as for the superstition that there could be ones of nature similar to themselves watching--and they wouldn't even know it.  
  
The deceivers fed on mental enslavement as well, so this thought was really causing hunger to form in his stomach, a bead of saliva dripping from the corners of one of the demon's lips as he left the chamber the same way he'd entered: through the ethereal door and off to his own, personal chambers.  
  
Silence.  
  
"...The master won't be pleased if we fail again, Satori. You and I will be accompanying Suguru sooner or later," suddenly, the words came from the demon's grimly curved lips.  
  
"Of course!" Blurted the excited demon, a gleeful expression of malice in his smile. "We can't let Suguru have all the fun, that'd be like...letting him get fat on their crushed dreams. It's just not right!"  
  
Akinori rolled his eyes to this, before leaving his throne and exiting through the doorway adjacent to it. This left the more erratic of the deceivers alone within the chamber, their meetings always ended like this. They weren't particularly social creatures when it came to those of their own race, for fear that their similar natures would lead to deception among them.

* * *

 

 

 

For nearly all his life, thoughts of forbidden knowledge tormented Tetsurou. One of the youngest archmagi in the history of Nekoma at the age of twenty-two, the youngest ever upon the Ruling Council, found himself immersing in arts that grew increasingly dangerous as his curiosity did. However, he swears, curiosity won't kill this cat. Only last week had the archmage Nekomata, leader of the Ruling Council and his mentor, discovered a tome on the art of necromancy within his personal laboratory. Only last week had he been warned that if he were to continue his pursuits, it'd lead him down a dark path of no return. Tetsurou knew better, he knew that knowledge was power, and that power was to be treated with a responsibility that he swore he'd never discard.  
  
"How much longer, master Kuroo?" It was the voice of one of his young apprentices, Yuuki, that spoke as they trudged through the catacombs beneath the city of magic. Young and inquisitive, it was refreshing. Yuuki reminded him of his younger self. Beside the youngest boy was Shouhei, his slightly older apprentice.  
  
Kuroo looked over his shoulder, elevating a palm and conjuring a flame in hand to light their way as they moved, "It won't be much longer, relax. You guys didn't forget the materials, right?" He regarded the reagents he'd instructed them to bring. It was crucial, and he really didn't feel like spending hours of walking back to the surface of Nekoma only to repeat the journey below.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Kuroo never could get more than a damned word at a time out of Shouhei's mouth. Now, where was the marking? He looked along the walls, waving the flame in order to reveal what the darkness hid, eventually seeing his mark which glowed in response to the presence of his magic. It was at an intersection of three tunnels, marking a turn left, which they hastily took.  
  
"Y'know, you really didn't need to bring two of us on this...I'm sure my channeling speed'll only slow you two down!" Yuuki piped up as they turned down the underground corridor, eventually arriving to a rectangular, stone room.  
  
"Get some confidence, Yuuki. I wouldn't have even taken you as an apprentice if I didn't see your potential," the mage let a sigh pass his lips, almost sounding agitated.  
  
"R-right!" Barked the apprentice in response, uneasy frown turning into a smile.  
  
He really wished his apprentices weren't so anxious and socially awkward--Hell, even Kenma, a fellow mage, was like this. Maybe it was just inherited in Nekoma. The mage sat his bags down, his apprentices soon following in suit as if on cue. Kuroo extended the flame in his hand, which shot forth in a fireball before diving into six sparks and hitting torches upon the walls, giving light to the room that had long fallen out of use. The room's stone constitution had withered, roots grew through the ceiling, ancient markings on the floors had long faded like a teacher's old markings upon a chalkboard. In it's center was a circle, a triangle intersecting it's borders with circular stands around each vertex.  
  
Silently, they got to their work. They'd well-discussed the plans beforehand. Each mage knelt, drawing over the runic circle at the vertex they'd chosen to stand upon and using inks they'd brought from their bags to trace deeper enchantments into the runes. Each mage produced an item to hold from their bag as they stood from their kneeling positions. Yuuki held in his hand a dagger made of silver, a beautiful thing. Shohei grasped in his hands, ready to hold above his head in channeling, a book of knowledge on the forests and how to commune with them. Finally, there was himself--Tetsurou, in giddy anxiety, clutched clear, beautiful crystal. Within it was a glimmer of gold, a spark of light. It had belonged to the last line of royalty to ever preside over Nekoma four hundred years ago. The city itself had escaped servitude, even through the Elven Wars.  
  
As they readied, Shouhei laughed. Whatever was going on in his head, Tetsurou had no clue.  
  
"Right, so," he whistled. "Everyone remember what to do? Focus your power into the items, raise them. The circle'll do the rest for you. If everything goes as planned, we'll be fine. If we screw up, remember to jump out of the circle at the first sign of trouble," instructed the archmage, eyeing his students. They both nodded, Yuuki making a nervous noise.  
  
Then it began, the ritual. His students raised their items, gripping with both hands, Tetsurou doing the same as the ritual circle came to life with crackling violet runes that levitated and whirled around them like a tempest of changing letters. Airborne alphabet soup, the thought had Tetsurou chuckle, though it sounded more like a stutter. His excitement took hold, and as they summoned, thoughts filled his head.  
  
This strange creature who he'd conversed with in dreams, nightmares, hallucinations. It spoke in a voice that made him want to feel it, want to be in the same room as it's physical form. It was beautiful and horrible to Tetsurou. The want, no--the need, to contact it ate at his very mind like an addiction. It appeared angelic with long, wispy wings as if made from the clouds themselves. A halo was around it's head, almost too perfect to be true and made of an elegantly burning flame that was reflected by it's stalwart eyes. Despite bearing pale skin, the creature still had a heavenly aspect to it. Skin like snow, rather than that or a corpse. It's smile was confident and reassured, a soft smirk that was seared into his mind. A warrior, a paragon. How could something so beautiful be forbidden from contact? Oh, the way it looked at him, the way it spoke...it had driven Tetsurou to breaking the very laws of the city to summon it.  
  
Too soon it was that he knew why.  
  
The items in their hands vanished, the air was soon filled with a nauseating stench as the runes collapsed inwards, before expanding and revealing a growing wingspan. Except, it wasn't like what he'd seen in his dreams, his visions. No, this was something terrible. Leathery and ragged, spines at the joints. The tatters glowed a deep green, the same sickly shade that was filling the very air around them as the wings spread apart. Kuroo called out, stretching a hand towards the usually silent of his apprentices, but it was too late. The creature's expanding wings had sent Fukanaga into the withered stone, his body now just as crumpled as it. Not even in a sound in his death.  
  
_Wham._ What he assumed was a fist slammed against his stomach, propelling him back. On instinct, he now sucked for air and gagged. His lungs burned, the fog making his eyes water, his nose run. He found himself on his hands and knees, choking on the vile air as his stomach churned, a hand clasping over his lips as a mixture of stomach acid and his lunch oozed from between and onto the ground. Eventually he set this hand down on the ground as well, it was hard to keep himself up without the support of his entire body. Kuroo's vision was blurry with tears, eyelids wincing over and blinking rapidly in a vain attempt to clear them.  
  
In his gaze, only one thing remained clear as day when everything else was swallowed in storm: the creature. It was the monster of nightmares, it's skin was pale and lifeless. A decomposing corpse that had it's face illuminated by twin, burning flames mounted above indentations at the bejeweled armor upon it's shoulders, it's face that was no longer the smirk of a hero triumphantly engaging those that threatened who he cared for, but a cunning manipulator instead. There were no gauntlets or heavy adornments upon it's wrists, instead replaced by fiendish claws which had their grasp around Yuuki's throat, the other held in a mock shrug.  
  
He willed his lips to move, but they barely parted for anything other than letting in enough toxic air to keep himself subsisting on what little wasn't tainted. He couldn't bring himself to move, trapped in the fast-flowing horror that was the reality of the demon, thought his only dreadful capability. The thought to know that if he could move, he could stop the demon rather than watching it in utter humiliation. It's horror was mesmerizing, Tetsurou recognizing that the fog carried with it a curse. These creatures had the ability to induce pain, to cause necrosis, but this one was a spell of sleep. Even as his organs burned, even as his mind raged, his body wouldn't move, and all he could do was -watch-.  
  
A sickening crunch filled the air. _No_. He wanted to scream out, he wanted to cry, he wanted to yell for help, but his lungs were too raw already, his body was giving up. The creature picked up one of Yuuki's limp arms, toying with it like a doll for a moment before discarding him on the ground in the same, ragdoll-esq fashion. The monster cackled at him, and he could only think that if he were able to will his suffering lungs into passing air as what barely could count as a laugh, it wouldn't be even a tenth as demonic as the noise coming from the demon's lips. It turned his attention towards him now, hooves clacking along the stone in it's slow stride as the toxic mist began to vanish.  
  
"Aah, how...much more quaint to what I'm used to," it purred at him, it's long, dagger-like tongue flicking in the air as if tasting it.  
  
Tetsurou still had difficulty breathing, his eyesight returning gradually to what it once had been, though tears now bled from his emotions began to take the place of the pain. He'd been deceived, and boy did he feel like the fool. He'd led his apprentices to their death, and he'd led himself to what he assumed would be his own demise.  
  
The demon made a frown out of it's grey, pale lips. "I see, you must be greatly alarmed! I bet you think I'm going to kill you, darling Tetsurou," the demon's voice was clearly masculine, as was it's neatly-swept, short hair. This bore the same shade as the demon's armor, a dim green. Upon clearer examination, the demon was at least two feet taller than him.  
  
Nobody had ever addressed Kuroo like that. It caused anger to inflame like infected nerves, the way the demon talked to him. The desire for death spread from that nerve, as he'd rather die than suffer humiliation from his peers, this thing, and whatever plans it had for him. The blood of his apprentices was on his hands, and he deserved a cruel fate.  
  
"Make my--my death quick," he spat out, lips curling and teeth gritting. The curse had seemingly worn off with the vanishing fog.  
  
"No, no. I have much greater plans for you, Tetsurou, my sweet summoner," the demon's every word, every gesture caused his facial muscles to tighten and tense, "you see, you have an honored purpose in our plan. You will be something -so- much greater than a mere mage of this paltry city, and there's -so- much more we can teach you." Something about Suguru's words lulled him into a sense of security for a moment, before he blinked, realizing what sort of effect the voice of the demon had.  
  
Sitting upon his knees, he looked to the demon, hands at his side and fingertips outstretched to the cracked stone, "Cast aside your mourning, you can grieve later."  
  
Tetsurou wasn't going to take this any longer. Roaring, he made his anger manifest in the palms of his hands, brought together before pushing outwards and projecting a mass of flame and conjured rock that grew as it traveled towards the demon's chest. The flame, through it blotted out the creature's upper body from sight, seemed to be negated all together, dissipating as it came too close to the demon and utterly vanishing. His hope, along with the fire, died as the demon continued his approach, kneeling before the slumped over mage, wings spread and casting a shadow around him as his grin came into view.  
  
"Now, are you ready to speak yet?" The demon's breath was as rancid as the former gust of air, mouth baring enlarged canines that he swore could easily rip his head from his shoulders if they tried.  
  
Tetsurou reluctantly nodded. The sweetened venom of laughter filled the air once more.

* * *

 "This is an outrage!"  
  
"I have to agree with Shibayama on this," the familiar voice of an Elven prince who sat upon their council filled the chamber.  
  
"What are we subject to if not the very law and principle we stand upon, Nekomata?" Questioned the same, scorn-filled tone of the elder Shibayama.  
  
"In my land, the punishment would be immediate execution," Kei voiced, more than overjoyed at the prospect of seeing one of his rivals writhe like an insect under the looming threat of justice.  
  
 _What a condescending stereotype of uprising royalty._ Tetsurou thought, staring up at the prince for but a moment. He felt the elf's gaze upon him for a moment in return. Usually, he'd have made a snide comment at the Tsukishima prince's desire to see him die, but he figured best not to make his impending execution painful.  
  
"You'd do best to keep in mind that we aren't in  ** _your_** land, and that while a valuable member of our city, you aren't on this council, Shibayama," came the voice of another councilor: Naoi Manabu.  
  
"While you sit and talk about exile or imprisonment, he already plans which students to sacrifice next for his own gain. Do you not remember what happens when someone sacrifices the lives of others for power, Manabu?" The living Shibayama's inflamed reply shot almost instantaneously.  
  
While their constant bickering went on and on from the intersections of levitating rings around the spire's central room, Kuroo Tetsurou stood in the middle of the disk below. He'd turned himself in after his encounter with the being he came to know as 'Suguru', in the tunnels below the city. There was no way he'd be able to live up to the guilt caused by his apprentices's deaths, so he felt that he should expedite his own. If there was anything he could do to hinder Suguru's plans, this would have to be it.  
  
Tetsurou sighed. In the midst of their yelling, he looked up to one of the rings, tired gaze falling upon none other than his pudding-headed friend. He was almost surprised Kenma showed up, his fellow mage didn't like conflict. He could only imagine what was going on right now in Kenma's head. Then, he realized. There were others at Kenma's level of the rings. His friend's own apprentice, Sou, and alongside them Yaku, Lev, and Nobuyuki. He could only imagine what they'd thought of him now. Perhaps the levelheaded look on Kenma's face was an indicator of suppressing his feelings. Tetsurou had no way of knowing, for he was too ashamed to ask, and he'd no doubt immediately be silenced if he spoke to the crowd.  
  
" **Silence yourselves**!" Barked a stern voice that came from a rough-faced man with slicked back hair. Oiwake Takurou was one of the older councilors.  
  
Despite the growing animosity every council member seemed to hold for one or more of each other, they, if only for a moment, kept themselves quiet for Nekomata to give his verdict.  
  
"While you will be punished for your actions, Tetsurou, it pains me to do this, to even look at you now," Nekomata sounded - even looked - older than he actually was, bizarrely enough. Perhaps it was because the old man was always so kind? He always saw the good in others.  
  
It bothered him to see his mentor stressed like this. Kuroo understood exactly why, however. He hadn't told them, after returning to the surface, ' _Hey, I summoned a demon that killed my apprentices!'_ , no, he'd lied that he'd sacrificed his apprentices. While known for his antics, no one had expected him to do such a thing. Not like anyone'd believe a story like that.  
  
"You will never be permitted to return to Nekoma, exiled from your homeland for the rest of your days. You won't be allowed to gather your belongings, and my decision here is final," Nekomata resumed and promptly finished. Kuroo swore he looked fifty years older by the end of that.  
  
The elder Shibayama looked furious, and for a moment the air within the chamber seemed to project his emotions. Everyone knew he'd lost his son, and everyone knew that if anyone had a reason to watch Kuroo die--it was him.  
  
Kuroo felt a suppressed desire to object, to cry out for his own demise in order to avert what horrid fate the demon had in mind, but something kept him from speaking. One time had he already played into the demon's hands, and yet he had no clue why.  
  
"If you're ever found again near our city, within it, my decision will be overridden--and execution will no longer have a stay," it seemed to be a sort of final warning.  
  
Kuroo remained wordless, only giving a grim nod of understanding to his situation. It wasn't long before the gathered mages in the uppermost ring consisting of Nekomata, Oiwake, and Sadayuki began to focus their powers together. His eyes eventually traveled from the channeling mages to the Kenma, who, as he could feel reality blur around himself, felt a moment where their eyes met. Yet, not long enough for Kuroo to tell what he was feeling, to get the clarity he desired as space and time shifted, Kuroo finding himself -somewhere-. Where? He didn't care. It was dark, there were hills, he could lie on the ground in contemplation, and that was exactly what he did.


End file.
